


By the Books

by JocelynTorrent



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, F/F, Fluff, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-09
Updated: 2016-03-09
Packaged: 2018-05-25 19:10:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,033
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6207022
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JocelynTorrent/pseuds/JocelynTorrent
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Briala thinks that high school, and everyone in it, is beneath her. Especially Celene Valmont, who embodies every high school stereotype of popularity. When Celene asks her out on a date, Briala figures it'll be of use to her as a writer, nothing more.</p>
            </blockquote>





	By the Books

Of course Briala knew who Celene Valmont was. Everyone knew who Celene Valmont was. If not by name then by face, and if not by face then by name. Their high school, by all accounts, did not ascribe to the trope of ‘most popular.’ There were varying cliques and a residing person to aspire to within each clique, neither one more popular than the other. And outside of cliques and friends and the occasional gossip, no one cared what anyone else did. But Celene had many cliques, many interests, and many friends, allowing her presence to ebb and flow throughout the school’s circulation of people of importance.

When the senior yearbook came out, Celene would be in no fewer than 25 pages. Briala knew this because the same had been true since freshman year. And now that she was the editor, she was certain senior year would be no different. And try as she did to make the yearbook inclusive of every student, Celene was just everywhere. And it didn’t help that she took the best pictures either. Too much lighting, not enough, after a football game or just before prom, Celene Valmont never looked anything less than spectacular.

If, for some reason, a student could not recall Celene’s name, they could most certainly be expected to point her out of a crowd. Celene was tall, 5’10 or so, and rivaled many of the senior boys in height. She was older, too, nineteen, and the two extra years of puberty had smoothed her body into the elegant and shapely woman that seemed to part the crowd when she walked. No one cared to remember her awkward phase as Briala did. They didn’t like to recall Celene as too tall for her gangly form with poor posture to mask her height. It would ruin the fantasy they had all created for themselves. Fantasies where Celene was their best friend or lover or even lab partner, existing purely to make the dreamer feel better about themselves.

Briala liked Celene. She’d met her on occasion for interviews for the yearbook, and they frequently worked together in school’s LGBT+ club. Briala was the president and Celene was merely a member, content to do whatever difficult or trivial task Briala sent her out to do. That surprised her, Briala admitted to herself. Celene played volleyball and ran track, but was not the captain of either. She was not the president of any of the various clubs she attended, not on the student council, and seemed only to strive for excellence in her grades. High A’s in all advanced courses had everyone believing that she would be valedictorian. And she might be, but that didn’t seem to matter to her at all.

In fact, Briala had no idea what mattered to Celene. Grades, obviously, but high marks in all classes left no room for speculation as to what her favorite subject was. Did she have one? She rarely carried books, though Briala supposed they could be stuffed into her large, designer handbags. Her notebooks held no doodles, her car had no bumper stickers. She was far too refined to wear anything with a logo that might indicate an interest in anything. They never had lunch together, so Briala didn’t know if Celene ate cheese sandwiches from a school lunch tray like her or if she, like the lucky students who had cars, traipsed all around town before finding a parking spot just before the bell rang. Her friends seemed to rotate weekly, depending on which club or activity took priority, and Celene was never cruel, speaking politely to anyone who had the courage to approach her.

Briala had watched a few of the brave, albeit tragically socially inept kids approach Celene in the halls on occasion. Smiling too widely, nodding too eagerly, and speaking too loudly they’d try desperately to get a kind glance from the senior who occupied their fantasies. Celene’s friends of the week would sneer, walk away, or laugh to themselves. But Celene always smiled, even if it didn’t quite reach her eyes sometimes, and engage them. She wasn’t completely altruistic, Briala supposed, because eventually Celene would formulate some kind of response to politely reject an awkwardly asked date or simply to extricate herself from her admirer.

Celene didn’t date, as far as Briala knew. A few boys liked to hang their arm around her shoulder or give her hugs at every greeting and goodbye, but she’d never seen Celene holding hands or kissing anyone. Her interest in the LGBT+ club had certainly raised some suspicions, but even then it was not Briala’s place to pry. She didn’t even care, really.

Celene was beautiful, yes, and kind. But from what Briala had seen she was a jack of all trades. Not deep or passionate enough about anything to hold Briala’s interest for too long. Briala liked literature and soccer and feminism and social change and politics and Cormac McCarthy and Sherwood Anderson and fast music with slow lyrics and movies that let her escape. Celene…Celene seemed to be fond of violet, given her fashion choices. And that was it. Celene’s depth went as deeply as her favorite color, and Briala couldn’t bring herself to be bothered by anything more.

Which is why it was so surprising to see Celene parting her sea of students, bright blue eyes shining and locked onto Briala as she neared. Briala was swapping her calculus and physics books for the five or so novels of her advanced English class, one knee pressed against the bottom locker to keep them balanced on her thigh as she fought with the mess that was her own locker. Papers, notebooks, overdue library books, materials for yearbook and her other clubs teetered precariously towards her as she tried to pilfer _Winesburg, Ohio_ from its clutches.

“Hey, Briala,” Celene greeted.

Briala turned, startled, and had to lift her chin to find Celene’s eyes. She had always been small, and was resigned to the fact that she would remain 5’3 and a half (and the half was _very_ important) for the rest of her life. Celene towered over her more so than she did with other students, and seemed to be aware of this as they looked at each other, for she slumped a little more against the locker. It did little to help, but was a nice enough gesture, and Briala smiled as she turned back to her locker.

“Hey, Celene. What’s up?”

“Uh…not much, really,” Celene answered with an embarrassed laugh. She ran a hand through her long, blonde hair and pushed it over to one side.

Briala looked up to see a faint blush coloring her pale cheeks, brought out by the violet blouse and dark jeans she wore. Briala was darker, even more so now from summer break and soccer. And her hair was a wild mass of varied curls. If she took the two hours a day necessary, she could make the curls beautiful and even and sweeping down her back. As it was, Briala was more than content to roll out of bed just before being made late and throwing it into a messy bun. Briala wondered what the two of them must look like together. Tall and small and pale and freckled and elegant and not.

A simple, gold chain hung from Celene’s neck and for a moment Briala thought she’d finally get a glimpse of personality beneath the shell. But the chain was just that. No charms, religious icons, or even a gem rested on it, and Briala sighed as she tugged on the book again. It was starting to give. Celene frowned in her peripheral, eyes darting to the novels that now started to rock back and forth on Briala’s thigh. With her textbooks in one hand and _Winesburg, Ohio_ in the other, Briala resigned herself to just letting the novels topple over. It’d happened several times before.

“Can I, um…” Celene frowned and bent her knees, scooping the novels from Briala’s thigh and holding them to her chest.

“Oh, yeah, thanks,” Briala answered, dropping her knee to give a final tug on the book. It came free and Briala was quick to respond to the avalanche of locker occupants with her shoulder, pushing them back until she could swing the door shut.

Celene’s eyebrows rose at the sight and she smiled fondly at the locker. “Impressive. Gonna suck when you clean it out, though.”

Briala had planned on taking the entire last week of school to clean her locker out, but decided against mentioning it. She brought her hand up to rub her eye and felt it smack into her glasses. Running late this morning, she had no time for contacts and had to resort to the thick, black frames to get her through the day without a headache. Her cheeks flushed with embarrassment and, seeing the large finger smudge in the center of the lens, she quickly tore them off.

“Here, just…give me your books,” Celene said, extending her other hand.

Briala gave them to her with another mumbled thanks and quickly cleaned her glasses before thrusting them back onto her nose. Celene regarded her then, a soft smile on her lips as she clutched the books in her hand.

“You don’t normally wear glasses, do you?” she asked.

“No. Contacts. I just forgot them this morning.”

“Oh, well, they look nice. I mean, you look nice without them, too, but…you get it.”

Celene wasn’t usually one for awkwardness. She’d always been fairly calm when Briala spoke to her, and seem to carry herself well in crowds and with her friends. For a moment Briala feared that she was somehow being pranked, like all the movies seemed to imply. Then she remembered that life was not a movie and that Celene Valmont would not ruin her perfect reputation for a prank.

“Yeah,” Briala finally said with a light laugh. “Thanks.”

“Mhmm.”

A few moments of silence passed between them. Briala glanced at the large, digital clock on the wall and began to fear being late for her class. Punctuality was important to her, even if Celene couldn’t seem to care less. She extended her hands for the books and Celene handed the textbooks back to her, keeping her grip on the novels. Briala had forgotten to put them up in all of her fumbling, and she sighed again, resigning herself to a heavier and nerdier looking load before reaching out for the novels. Celene shook her head and eased herself off the wall.

“You’re going to the 4000 hall?” Briala asked.

Celene shrugged. “On Fridays I don’t have an eighth period. Volunteering.”

“Oh. Cool. What do you…volunteer?” Briala asked as she turned and walked with Celene down the hall. They walked leisurely, the students giving the both of them space. Likely, they were just giving Celene space, but Briala benefited from it all the same and enjoyed not having to elbow her way through freshman for once.

“Canned food drive.”

Another generic answer. There had to be a reason that Celene stopped by, though. Perhaps she wanted to talk about the LGBT+ club or her most recent yearbook quote. But whatever the reason, she was now reticent. Briala resigned herself to just getting to the end of the hall and getting her books back. But that only lasted for a few steps until her curiosity got the better of her and she peered up at Celene.

“So…did you need something?” she asked, hoping it was light enough to mask her slight irritation.

Celene looked down at her clutched Briala’s books tighter to her chest. She smiled widely, not unlike when she spoke to the brave, socially inept.

“Yes, I…I wanted to ask you something.”

With just two minutes left before the bell, Celene stopped outside of Briala’s class and leaned against the wall again. She seemed to like to do that. Briala eyed the door to her classroom and met eyes with the teacher before looking back to Celene. She raised her eyebrows and pushed her glasses up just a bit on her nose. Celene looked…nervous. It was an odd sight from the normally composed senior and Briala felt herself growing just a bit anxious, looking over her shoulder to see if she was wrong about the prank.

“I was wondering if you’re doing anything tonight?”

“Why?”

Celene gave another awkward laugh, her cheeks turning an even brighter shade of red. “If you’re not busy I thought we could hang out or something. Get dinner or…I don’t know.”

Briala frowned. “Why?”

“Geez, you really don’t make this easy on a girl, do you?” Celene said with a slight, petulant stamp of her foot. “I’m asking you out, okay? And I think I’m failing…horrendously…maybe on a catastrophic level.”

Briala’s face softened during Celene’s explanation, her mouth falling open to make a soft ‘o’ as she stood before Celene. She’d only had passing interests in the girls at school, choosing to fawn over the soccer moms that picked them up instead. She wanted to talk about bigger and more important things than summer break and which college they were all going to. Naïve as it was, she wanted a romance to write about, something that made all the books she read worthwhile. Or at the very least, to see if fiction was simply that: not real. Celene was…not someone she had in mind.

But a certain part of her couldn’t help but be flattered. And neither was she unpleasant or unattractive company. A date could be fun, even if nothing came of it. The love of great novels was hardly ever your first high school date, anyway. They’d hang out, realize that there was nothing shared between them, and go about their ways with Briala always having the knowledge that she’d dated the most desirable girl in school. She wanted to ask Celene questions, such as how long she’d liked her and where all of this was coming from, but she had thirty seconds until the bell.

“Okay,” she said finally.

Celene’s eyes brightened, though her face remained incredulous. “Wait, really?”

“Yeah, sure. That sounds nice. You’ve got my number from LGBT+, right?”

“Yeah! Yeah, um, great.” Celene beamed and this time it reached her eyes. “So, what, maybe seven?”

“Sounds good. I’ll text you.”

“Great. I’ll see you tonight then.” Celene handed the novels over to Briala and tapped the copy of _Winesburg_ on top with a slender finger. “By the way,” she said with a wink, “this is one of my favorites.”

There it was. A piece of Celene that belonged solely to her. Briala watched her walk away, the slow saunter that, now that she really looked at it, could be considered unique. She watched until her punctuality got the better of her and she stepped inside the classroom just as the bell rang. Taking her seat, Briala lifted her copy of _Winesburg_ and caught the scent that lingered from Celene’s blouse. It was light and smelled of flowers, and after searching to make sure that no one was looking, she brought the book to her nose and inhaled deeply. The perfume faded away before she’d finished her breath, and she hid her smile behind the book cover.

* * *

 

When soccer practice ran late, Briala decided it was best just to wait at school and work on her homework until Celene arrived. They had texted throughout the day and Celene had assured her that there were no dress codes required for what she had in mind. Briala really hoped that was the case. Her hair was frizzy from lack of fine products, having used the school showers after practice, and fuzzed out even from the tight bun she’d pulled it back into. She could feel a curl by her ear, springing up and out every time she tried to push it behind her ear. It likely looked like a stupid, horizontal spring jutting out of her head and she felt herself blushing as she tried unsuccessfully to tuck it back once more.

It was the last week of August, and the setting sun pressed warmly on her back and caused her glasses to slide down her nose. She pushed them back up absently and erased her current integration problem. Celene texted her ten minutes ago that she was on her way, putting extra effort in her tone by adding an exclamation point at the end. Briala pulled out her phone and ran through their brief messages throughout the day. Celene used proper spelling and grammar, just like Briala, and conveyed a good tone in her messages. She seemed excited for tonight. And thought Briala was still nervous, and even a bit suspicious, she couldn’t help but be eager as well.

Briala supposed she shouldn’t have been surprised that Celene drove a luxury car. A sleek, white, four door thing with a convertible top. The modern equivalent of a white steed, Briala half expected Celene to step out in shining armor. But Celene stayed in the car as she neared, and waved kindly. Briala opened the back door first, unsurprised but still somewhat irritated at finding it clean, and tossed her backpack and soccer bag onto the leather seat before climbing into the front.

She clicked on her seatbelt and looked over to find Celene smiling easily. Whatever nerves she’d had about asking Briala out seemed to have dwindled throughout the day, and she seemed as confident and calm as ever. Though Celene wore the same clothes she had at school, Briala suddenly felt underdressed in her presence. Then again, Celene had the advantage of reapplying her makeup and styling her hair, whereas Briala had none. And despite her embarrassment at seeming dowdy, Celene’s eyes were still kind, still as interested as they had been earlier that day.

“How’s it going?” she asked.

Briala shrugged. “Good, I guess. How’re you?”

“Good, thanks. You hungry?”

Briala put her hands on her stomach. She’d only had a banana after practice and hoped that her stomach wouldn’t betray her by growling. “Yeah, a bit.”

“What do you want to eat?”

Briala shook her head. “Uh-uh. This was your idea. I’m not making decisions.”

Celene frowned playfully. “This is setting me up for failure. What if I pick Italian and you have a gluten intolerance? Or a steakhouse and you’re a vegetarian?”

“The mysteries of life must be solved one way or another.”

Chuckling, Celene shook her head. “Come on. Tell me at least what kind of food you want and I’ll pick a place.”

“Nope.”

“Please?”

“Nope.”

“You really don’t make it easy on a girl,” Celene repeated, running a hand through her hair. It slid smoothly between her fingers and she flipped it over to one side. It looked really good like that, Briala noted as her nerves increased.

“…first date?” Celene asked, breaking Briala from her thoughts.

“Huh?”

“I said, are you always this stubborn on a first date?” she clarified with a smile.

Briala sighed and gave a shrug as she reclined back against the seat. In truth she’d never been good at making decisions on trivial things such as restaurants. Food was food and what did it matter where they went as long as the company was good? But was there more to it than that? Was she being more stubborn than usual?

This was her first date. She didn’t think herself a late bloomer or a reject for that. The other gay girls at school just didn’t really share her interests, and clubs and sports usually kept Briala busy all throughout the year. She hadn’t even known if Celene was interested in girls until today. First dates were supposed to be awkward and overwrought with false romance. Did she fear that or did she want to experience it herself, if only for experience’s sake?

“I wouldn’t know,” she answered finally. “This is my first date.”

Celene frowned. “Ever?”

“Ever.”

“You’re kidding.”

“Well, if you’re gonna mock me—

“No, no, I’m not mocking you I’m…” Celene shook her head, her hair falling into her face before she pushed it back absently. “I’m just surprised, is all.”

Briala shrugged, turning to look out the window to hide her blush. “Sports and clubs keep me busy.”

Celene stayed quiet for a few minutes, then hummed softly. “I see,” she said before throwing the car in reverse and backing out of the parking lot. “I guess I have to make it something special then.”

“No,” Briala said so quickly it caused Celene to tap the brakes. “No, don’t do that.”

“I want to,” Celene said, her voice rising just a bit in confusion.

She looked beautiful like that, without the ever calm mask that she wore during school. Creases in her forehead and a crinkle between her eyebrows. Something that showed emotion other than complacency. Briala swallowed, unsure of what to do now that’d she’d made an idiot of herself by speaking without thinking. But Celene was patient, stopped halfway out of the parking spot with her hand resting easily on the gearshift, waiting.

“But then it’ll be forced,” Briala blurted finally. “It’ll be forced and stilted and awkward and everything that first dates are supposed to be because we’ve all seen too many movies and read too many books about how these things _should_ go that we spend all our time trying to imitate it and recreate someone else’s idea of romance and perfect first dates.”

Celene’s eyes widened during Briala’s diatribe, the corners of her mouth turning up into a grin. Briala felt herself blushing again. Celene probably didn’t think about these things. All she did was go with the flow of her peers and live leisurely through high school. And that was fine, but it was not Briala.

“So, you do whatever you want to do. And we’ll see what happens,” she huffed, crossing her arms angrily. She’d put money on dinner and a movie. It was a classic go-to. And she liked food and she liked movies, which would render this date tolerable and a one-time only deal. If Celene was feeling particularly romantic, maybe they’d find a park bench somewhere to make out on. Briala would probably agree, because Celene was attractive and it’d be another cool story to tell her kids someday that she dated and then made out with the most beautiful girl in school. It would be an experience to pack away for her writing where she could imagine another ‘perfect’ first date for kids to imitate and be disappointed by and nothing more.

Warm fingers grazed along her arm. Briala turned to find Celene smiling again, almost sadly. She retracted her hand and put it back on the gear shift. “Okay,” she said finally, throwing the car into park.

Still halfway out of the parking spot, Celene hopped out of the car and threw Briala’s things into the trunk. Then she climbed back in and finished backing out before heading out of the parking lot. She pulled out her phone as she drove and tossed it to Briala, asking her to dial the number of a local pizza place.

Briala had to admit she wasn’t expecting pizza. Perhaps the luxury of Celene’s car had deluded her into thinking they’d be dining at a fancy establishment. Remembering that Celene had been the one to tell her she didn’t need to dress up, Briala dropped the thought and dialed the number, handing the phone back to Celene. She placed the order for pick up and stopped at a convenience store, telling Briala to wait in the car. She returned with a plastic bag and set it in Briala’s lap for her to rifle through, finding two sodas and an assortment of candy. By the time Celene stopped at the pizza place and ran inside to grab it, it was dark. Briala gazed at the neon signs in the window and watched the boy behind the counter smile too widely at Celene. She could only see the back of her blonde head, but Briala imagined Celene returning it just as stiffly, albeit kindly. It was what she did to everyone else at school, why should a pizza boy be any different?

The pizza smelled heavenly and was warm in her hands as Briala took it from Celene. She ran her hand over the top of the box eagerly as Celene placed a stack of napkins on top. Briala made to open the box and was stilled when Celene placed her hand over hers.

“Can you wait?” Celene asked genuinely.

And because she was trying, and her hand was so surprisingly soft, Briala said that she could.

“I like driving at night,” Celene said as she got onto the highway that took them out of town. “If I’m alone, I’ll drive until I’m afraid I can’t find my way back, and blast music and sing it at the top of my lungs.”

Briala laughed softly. “I don’t have a car, but I do like this. You’re not going to get us lost though, are you?”

Celene rolled her eyes. “Can’t be lost anymore when you have a cell phones. But, no, I know where I’m going tonight.”

“Yes you can. Just get rid of the cell phone and suddenly it’s uncharted territory.”

“Until you see a power line or a 7-11 or a discarded gum wrapper.”

“Cynic.”

“Idealist.”

“Misanthrope.”

It was Celene’s turn to laugh. “Are we getting into a word war?”

“Are you admitting defeat by not answering?”

Celene’s eyes narrowed even as she kept them on the road. “Escapist.”

“Malcontent.”

“Bathetic.”

“Pathetic?”

“ _Bathetic_. It means…oh, kind of maudlin.”

“I am _not_ maudlin.”

Celene turned to face her for a moment, eyebrow raised in incredulity. “You heard your own diatribe about first dates, right? You want desperately for this moment to be magical and yet you put constraints on how it comes about. And you’re so certain that it’ll end up terrible, or worse, mundane that I may as well turn this car back around and drop you off at home with your books and fantasies that never run the risk of disappointing and have this pizza all to myself.”

Briala fought to keep the surprise from her face and leaned forward in the seat. The pizza was warm against her thighs, just shy of uncomfortable. “Okay, first of all, this pizza is mine. Second of all, what I said was not a diatribe. What _you_ just said was a diatribe. And third of all, is it so wrong to want to actually live the life we see in books and movies? Lives that we all clearly want to live because we can’t stop reading about them and watching them?”

“Of course you should aspire to live the life you want. But there’s no need to judge others on what or how they enjoy it.”

Briala glared half-playfully at her. “I’m pretty sure insulting me is not standard first date fare for anyone.”

Celene laughed. “I’m not insulting you. Just giving you a very slight, gentle nudge off that pedestal.”

“Oh okay, here we go…”

They talked and bickered playfully until Celene turned on her blinker and Briala looked up to see her turning down a gated road. It looked well kept, rich, and Briala eyed the expensive logo on Celene’s steering wheel. Celene could afford to bail herself out of jail for trespassing or whatever it was they were doing. She could probably also afford a really good lawyer to waive all charges. Briala could afford neither of things.

“We’re allowed to be here, right?” she asked, her heart racing as Celene gave an all too innocent tilt of the head.

“Well, there is no trespassing allowed. Signs were posted at the front gate there,” she jerked her head behind her. “But since I live here, I think we’ll be okay.” She winked and Briala rolled her eyes and turned to the window to hide her smile.

“I don’t see a house for to live in out here.”

“It’s over there,” Celene pointed somewhere out in the darkness, “but we’re going over there,” and she pointed in the opposite direction towards the hills.

“Dare I ask why?”

“And ruin this hastily concocted first date I’ve planned? No.”

Briala rolled her eyes again to her reflection and looked out the window. There weren’t any lights this far out of town and she fought to see the countryside through her reflection. The car drove smoothly over the unpaved road and the sound of the rocks crunching beneath the tires was calming. Briala listened to her even breathing and turned her head to watch Celene’s chest rise and fall in her peripheral. Celene drove with one hand and kept that hand on the bottom of the steering wheel. She was a surprisingly smooth, if not too careful a driver. Her fingers were slender and smooth, nails manicured but not too long. Briala remembered the feel of Celene’s hand on hers and realized that she missed it. It was childish of her to do so, and she couldn’t bring herself to reach out and take it again.

Celene finally pulled the car to a stop on top of a hill and rolled the windows down. As Briala looked around and tried to find out what it was that was worthwhile out here, Celene reached over her and undid a latch on the roof of the car. With a push of a button, the top began to recline, and Briala watched it slink slowly behind her head.

“Okay,” Celene said, sliding her seat all the way back so that she could rest one leg along the car door. “You can eat now.”

Briala eagerly opened the pizza box and took out a slice. It was exactly what she would have ordered, save for the onions. Celene watched her pick off a few onions before she sighed and reached for a slice.

“I took a gamble on the onions. I can see that I was wrong.”

Briala shrugged and took a bite of her now onion-less pizza. “Hey, it was perfect besides that. I’m impressed.” She reached down into the plastic bag at her feet and pulled out the two sodas. “Also you got the right soda.”

Celene gave herself a small, congratulatory fist pump and Briala laughed before taking another bite. When Celene finished her first slice she reached out and turned on the car stereo. “Play me your favorite songs?” she asked when Briala looked her way.

“What if you don’t like them?” Briala asked as she pulled her phone out of her pocket.

“Won’t know that ‘til you play them.”

“Okay, but just know that some songs I like for lyrics or for one random guitar bit or—

Celene’s laugh cut her off. “I won’t judge…too harshly.”

The music began and they ate silently for the first few songs. Occasionally Celene would pick up Briala’s phone to look at the song and would either nod approvingly or give a shrug.  Briala would smile shyly each time she did it, and whenever she was caught, Celene would return it. When the box was empty, Celene tossed it casually into the back seat and reclined her chair.

“I come out here all the time. Usually on horseback but…I like to lay out in the silence and watch the stars and think about…whatever.”

Briala looked up and realized just how bright the night sky was. Stars were embedded everywhere, more than usual, she thought, and she wondered if it was due to the lack of light from being outside of the city. She reclined her own seat and stared up at it, listening as the song played softly in the background.

“What do you think about?” she asked after a moment.

Celene chuckled. “Oh, anything. Class that day, what someone said, deeper stuff like what it all means or really shallow stuff like wondering if I put on deodorant after track.”

“So what are you thinking about right now?”

Celene looked over at her. She was long and beautiful, her blonde hair cascading down over the back of the headrest. Her hands rested in her lap and one leg was still flung out over the car door. She looked pale and at peace in the moonlight. Briala committed the image to her memory in hopes of finding the right words to write about it someday. Celene stretched and Briala shamelessly eyed her chest before looking away.

“I’m thinking that I’m really full right now. But also it’s warm and quiet and you’re really good company. And I’m hoping that you’re having an okay time, and aren’t bored.”

“I’m not bored,” Briala said with a smile.

“No? Then what are you thinking about?”

Briala didn’t know if she could put it into words. And if she could, she didn’t know if she wanted Celene to hear those words. They were far too intense for a first date. More about the little moments strung together and the absolute peace she was in. She was also somewhat in awe at how quickly this date had turned around. She and Celene fell into place easily. And this person whom she’d thought so bland and noncommittal was suddenly the most interesting topic in the world. She wanted to know everything and yet nothing at all, discovering bits and pieces as time went on.

“I’m thinking that I want to hear your favorite songs now.”

Celene nodded and rose from her seat, lifting her phone from her pocket. Briala was expecting top 40 hits. What she got was a symphony, then an orchestra, followed by metal, a country song, and something that sounded Celtic.

“You’re all over the place, aren’t you?” Briala asked as a classic rock song came on.

“I like music. Why restrict it to one genre?”

“How do you keep up with all of it?”

“I don’t,” Celene laughed. “I couldn’t tell you what’s popular on the radio right now. I’m also one of those people that repeats a song 500 times.”

Briala nodded and leaned back up towards the sky. “It’s beautiful out here. I’d come out here to think, too.”

“Ooh,” Celene said, turning in her seat to face Briala. “And what would a writer think about, I wonder?”

“How do you know I’m a writer?”

Celene shrugged. “Goes hand in hand with reading. And your speeches for the club always hold something… extra to them.”

“You like writing?”

“I like your writing.”

Briala blushed and shook her head. “The stuff for the clubs isn’t good. Or, well, it’s not what I like to do, anyway.”

“What do you like to do?”

“I want to write novels.”

“Really? What about?”

Briala shrugged. “Who knows. I just know I want to write them. What about you? What do you want to do?”

“Political science.”

Her voice was flat for the first time, the response automatic as if she’d been asked all too many times before. “Really?” Briala asked, lifting her head. “You’ve never gone for student council or anything.”

“I’m in enough clubs as it is.”

“But you’re not the president of any of them.”

Celene shrugged. “Do I have to be the president of all the clubs to be a political science major?”

“No, but I’d think you’d want to be.”

Celene gave a slow smile, her eyes roving distractedly over Briala’s face and shrugged.

“What?” Briala asked. “You don’t want to do political science?”

“If you could do one thing from the books right now, what would it be?”

“Huh?”

“The books you read and question so often. Where spectacular things seem to happen that never happen in real life. If you could do something…fictional right now. What would you do?”

“That’s a loaded question. What if I say something stupid?”

Celene laughed. “Is it possible for you to say something stupid? I’ll go first then.” She sighed and looked out the front windshield, tilting her chin in its direction. “If it wouldn’t kill me or even really hurt me, I think I’d like to drive this car off the cliff, Thelma and Louise style.”

“That’s morbid.”

“I said if it wouldn’t kill me. It’d just be a rush, wrecking so much money, going fast and flying through the air.”

Briala nodded her head in concession after a moment. “I guess I can see it.”

“Now your turn.”

“Answer me something first.”

“Okay.”

“I’m not…the most experienced of daters. But I didn’t even know you were interested in me until this afternoon.”

“No? I still can’t believe you haven’t dated before.”

“Why’s that so hard to believe?”

“Because you’re great and beautiful.”

Briala smirked to the stars as her cheeks flushed. “See, here’s this whole liking business that I’m still not quite sure on.”

Celene laughed. “Well, we’ve known each other since freshman year. Various classes and clubs. I always thought you were so pretty and confident. And you kinda, even at fourteen when you didn’t know how to control the frizz in your hair,” she reached out and tugged gently on the rebellious curl over Briala’s ear, “you just had this self-assuredness. You were still shy, but you knew who you were and no one could take that away from you.”

“How could you possibly know that at fourteen?”

Celene turned her nose up in an apology of sorts. “No, it’s mean.”

“I won’t be offended.”

“You might.”

“Celene.”

Celene sighed and ran her hands through her hair. “Well, you had that frizzy hair, and you were small and—

“Prime bully material.” Briala remembered being fourteen vividly. Braces, acne, frizzy hair all rolled up into one. But she had soccer friends and joined clubs anyway, and was never without someone to sit with at lunch. It could have been worse, she used to tell herself in the mirror before her face cleared and she discovered that some hair required more than just conditioner. She could have been bullied, lonely, and truly unattractive. Her awkward phase had passed, just like Celene’s. She still wore her retainers at night, but Celene didn’t need to know that.

Celene shrugged. “But no one ever touched you. I know because, I don’t know, I guess I kinda looked out for you. Because I thought you were cute back then, too. Not that you needed it, though. You’ve just…sort of been on my radar ever since I could remember. You don’t need to know how stupidly ecstatic I was when you joined LGBT+. And, well, we’re all going off to college next year so I thought I might as well take a chance before it’s gone.” She looked back over at Briala and smiled. “I’m really glad you said yes.”

“I am, too.”

“So…?”

“So what?”

“Come on, the fiction thing. What would you do?”

“Okay, okay. Lemme think.”

Briala sat back in her seat as Celene turned up the volume on one of her songs. She closed her eyes and tapped her boot against her car with the beat. Briala’s eyes followed her long legs up to a long torso. Celene’s lips were parted as she lazily mouthed the lyrics to the song. Driving off of a cliff was an interesting idea. Spending the night in a mall and playing in all the stores was something she always thought about while shopping. Spending a first date like the ones in the books could be crossed off her list.

Briala smirked to herself and felt the pizza resting heavily in her stomach, the sugar of the soda on her tongue. The night was warm and bugs chirped all around them. The moon wasn’t full, but it was still bright and Celene’s skin glowed beautifully against it. Would it be as vivid later when she recalled it from memory to write down in one of her stories?

“Okay, I know what I’d do,” Briala said finally.

Celene’s eyes opened, intrigued. “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Do tell.”

“Well, you know what comes after a super epic and unique first date in the books?”

Celene shook her head, smiling. Briala felt her dinner churn in her stomach and decided that she wouldn’t leave all the fun to the books anymore. If this turned out badly for her, it was just another life experience to draw from later. Briala swallowed and, in one fluid motion, crossed the car and straddled Celene’s waist. Celene looked surprised, but smiled as she tentatively placed her hands on Briala’s hips. Her touch was light, questioning almost, and before Briala could talk herself out of it, she leaned down and kissed her.

She smelled Celene’s perfume, felt the soft fabric of her shirt. Celene’s lips were soft, slightly greasy like hers from the pizza, and pliant against Briala’s own. Briala felt her heart racing and placed one hand on Celene’s chest, finding that Celene’s heart was beating just as quickly. The timid hands on her hips found their strength and gripped tightly to her before sliding up her back. They broke apart a few minutes later, and Briala smiled at the surprised, glazed over look in Celene’s eyes.

“That’s what I would do,” she murmured against Celene’s lips. “If fiction were real, of course.”

Celene swallowed and took a deep breath. Her hands tightened again on Briala’s hips. “I’ve waited four years for that,” she said finally. “And it was better than I could have imagined.”

“Just like the books?”

“Better.”

Briala leaned down and gave her another, shorter kiss. “So, are we dating now?”

Celene smiled. “That depends on if you want to. Though,” she spoke again as Briala opened her mouth to answer. “You should know that I’m not out to my family. And college. And—

“So, do you want to or not?” Briala laughed.

“I…yes,” Celene answered with a smile that reached her eyes.

Briala sighed and studied Celene’s face. “I underestimated you, didn’t I?”

“What do you mean?” Celene asked, crinkle forming between her eyes as she furrowed her brow. Briala decided it was just easier to kiss her again.


End file.
